Mary released a deep sigh. "That they have, but then we've all tasted it of late you included, with your mother's passing."
Sarah appreciated the kind remark. Rocky had mentioned little about her personal loss. Would he even care that she had cried herself to sleep more than once since arriving in Little Hickman?
"You miss your mother, child?" asked Mary, not bothering to mince words.
To her great dismay, the question triggered tears, and she fought to hold them at bay.
"Now, now," Mary said, increasing the number of pats she gave to Sarah's knee. "It's perfectly fine to let it out. I daresay you've been strong up to this point, and it's time you let go of those bottled-up tears."
Perhaps it was the way Mary put an arm around her shoulder, or the smile of warmth she offered. All Sarah knew was that it was just the invitation she needed to free the tears she didn't even realize she'd been holding back. For the next few minutes she blubbered into her mother-in-law's shoulder, taking the handkerchief offered her and blowing hard, as if that would rid her of her sobs the quicker.
When the well of emotion ran dry, she wiped her eyes one last time and pulled herself up straight. "Well, I didn't mean to carry on like that."
Mary shushed her with a flip of her wrist. "I will not accept any apologies. Why, I've sat myself down for a good cry more than once. Poor Frank hardly knows what to make of me sometimes. Tears are God's way of cleansing us of our deepest hurts, so don't you be holding them back when they need to come, you hear?"
Sarah sniffed and nodded, embarrassed by her outburst.
Mary's eyebrows rose inquiringly. "Has my son been kind to you?"
The unexpected question gave Sarah pause, but she had no trouble answering it. "He's been most considerate."
In fact, he'd been more than polite-carrying her into the house after her fall and riding like the wind into town after Doc Randolph, insisting that she follow his precise orders. Even calling on his mother to help with the chores had been a thoughtful act, though she supposed his reasons for that were twofold. At least now he needn't waste time checking on her.
"Well, that's good to know. Rocky was always such a kindhearted boy. Never gave his papa or me a bit of grief while we were raising him. It's just that now he's..." Her statement fizzled away.
"What?" Sarah urged. "Please, I want to know all I can about him." As soon as she voiced the words, she realized the truth in them.
Mary bit her lip before carrying on. "When he lost Hester he pretty near died himself, but he had Joseph to consider. He wrapped everything around that boy afterward, took him everywhere, rarely let him out of his sight. Matter of fact, he wouldn't even allow Joseph to spend much time with us, and we were his grandparents.
"Looking back, I'm sure it was because Joseph was all he had, and he couldn't imagine losing him as well, so he clung as tight as he could. When Joseph died of the fever, Rocky just rolled up into himself and never came back out."
Mary's eyes took on a distant look. "My, but that Joseph was a sweet little boy." Then, just as quickly, she turned her gaze back on Sarah. "He used to love the Lord, you know, my Rocky. Never missed a single Sunday service, no sir. Now, well, I just don't know what goes on in his head. I s'pose in a way he blames God. He and Hester used to pray about everything. My, she was a wonderful Christian woman."
The older woman shook her head and patted Sarah's arm. "I don't mean to go on about Hester."
"No, it's fine. Really. I've asked Rocky about her, but he has told me very little. I want to know about her. Maybe it will help me understand your son better."
Mary nodded. "Well, there's not much to tell, except that she was a fine woman, hardworking, loved farming. Pretty little thing too. That girl spent more time outside than she did in, I think. She loved her garden. Of course, it's all but withered away by now. Rocky never tends it. He's too busy in the fields raising crops for income.
"When Joseph came along, she took him outside every chance she got. He was just a few days old when she laid him in a shady spot next to the garden so she could weed." Mary shook her head and smiled. "Don't get me wrong, she was a fine mother, very doting, but she wasn't much for staying put inside these four walls."
Sarah frowned. She was nothing like Hester, and it worried her that Rocky would always regret that about her. Had he been looking for a substitute for Hester when he'd married her? If so, he surely must be disappointed.
Mary fixed her eyes on the front window overlooking the open fields. "Rocky comes off as harsh, especially with those kids, but the truth is I think he's scared to death of ever loving another living thing. Seth is right near the age that Joseph would've been.
"I know it's rough for you now, you losing your mother and all, marrying a man you didn't even know, moving into a strange household, taking care of someone else's kids, but I can't help but feel you're right where God wants you."
Sarah patted the woman's arm and nodded. "Thank you for that. I didn't come to Little Hickman on a whim. I prayed in earnest about it, and I've no doubt that God led me here. I just had no idea how it would turn out. I came to town to marry one man and wound up with someone altogether different. But I believe I did the right thing in coming."
Mary smiled and nodded. "I believe it as well. Those children need you and so does my Rocky."
As if he'd heard his name mentioned, the door opened and in came Rocky, bringing a harsh burst of cold air with him.
"Land, it's cold outside," Mary said. "Close that door."
For a moment, Rocky just stood there watching the two women, most likely wondering why they huddled so close on the sofa. "Everything all right?" he asked, eyeing Sarah in a peculiar way before closing the door.
He looked so handsome standing there, his dark eyes searching Sarah's, his cap nearly covering his thick, brownishblack eyebrows. When he took the cap off, his eyes flickered with a gleam of awareness. Not knowing what to make of it, she averted her gaze.
"Of course everything's all right," Mary said, pushing herself up with a slight groan, her plump, round body slowing her efforts. "Why wouldn't it be?"
He shrugged. "Just curious. You two look awful serious."
Mary laughed. "Women have a right to talk about things, son," she said, shuffling to the kitchen, her back to both of them.
Rocky slung off his winter coat. A long-sleeved blue and white flannel shirt stretched across firm shoulders, ones Sarah recalled being rock solid when he'd carried her into the house and she'd leaned her head against them. His black hair fell in disarray, and he quickly finger-combed it before stepping all the way inside.
Powerful legs led him directly to the chair beside the sofa. With a sigh, he dropped into it.
"How is your day going?" Sarah asked.
"Fine," he murmured.
"Tell me what you've done so far," she urged, tucking bare feet under her.
He seemed to watch that particular movement with interest, his eyes going from her feet back up to her face. "It wouldn't interest you."
Eager to hear him talk, she countered, "Try me."
One corner of his mouth pulled up. "You serious?"
She nodded and caught Mary watching, a smile creasing her face as she bent over the oven to observe the baking bread.
"Starting around six I milked my cows and then gathered nine warm eggs from under some cackling hens," he began in practiced monotone. "Then I made a few trips from the shed where I store my hay and other animal feed and saw that the horses, cows, and hog got their breakfast. Once they were fed I saw to my own stomach." There were touches of humor around his mouth while he talked.
"If you recall, I ate in a hurry."
She nodded. "You barely took time to finish your coffee."
He looked casually amused. "After breakfast I took a few more scraps out to Fester because he never gets quite full enough."
"Fester?"
"The hog."
She giggled in spite of herself. "I haven't met him yet."
/> "Your loss," he said as serious as you please. "After that, I carried several buckets of fresh water into the barn and filled the troughs. Then I went back to the chicken house to repair a bit of barbed wire that one of my roosters has been pecking at in a desperate attempt to reach one of his many mistresses."
It was impossible not to laugh full-throttle at that point, even though Sarah did cover her mouth in a stifling attempt. "You paint a vivid picture," she said. In the background, she heard Mary chuckle to herself.
"You want more?" he asked, his own laugh low and throaty.
"Yes!" she cried.
He threw a large stocking-clad foot over his knee and held his ankle with one hand. Sarah noted a hole in the middle of his sock and made a mental note to find the darning tools and make some repairs. Of course, she would have to wait for her aching head to allow for the extra eyestrain.
"Armed with pitchfork, I tackled all the stalls. I muck them out pretty much every day so the animals stay warm and don't get sick. Once done with that, I throw in fresh straw. I usually only do this during the coldest period of winter. Otherwise, they stay outside, and the mucking isn't a daily chore."
"I'm sure they appreciate all you do," she said, meaning it sincerely.
His head tossed back in a fit of laughter. Even Mary looked up as if quite unaccustomed to the rich sound. She winked at Sarah and went back to her puttering.
"Well now, if they do they've never let on," he said. "If you ask me, they're all pretty demanding of my time and attention. That's why I came inside. I needed to find a bit of warmth, and to take a load off."
Sarah smiled. "It's good that you did."
All of a sudden, he dropped both feet to the floor, leaned forward, and lowered his voice. "I'd have to agree."
She met his eyes without flinching. "Your mother has a fresh pie cooling in the lean-to. If you are extra nice she might offer you a piece."
He grinned and turned his head. "That true, Ma?"
"Is what true?" she asked.
"Don't give me that innocent act," he teased. "You heard every word. You got pie coolin' out back?"
"Go see for yourself," she ordered.
He stood up and pushed his hands deep into his pockets. From where Sarah sat, he looked massive, but the sudden warmth she glimpsed in his expression told her he was harmless. "You want pie?" he asked in almost a whisper.
Her stomach took an unusual turn. "A small piece would be nice," she replied.
One eyebrow arched in mischievous fashion as his lips gave way to a smile as intimate as a kiss. He bent over her until his face came within inches of her own. "I hope you're not growing too accustomed to all this service, Mrs. Callahan." His voice seemed to caress her ears, setting her pulse to racing. "A wife could get downright spoiled."
"What? No," she said, sitting back from him, suddenly unsure.
He chuckled privately. "You worry too much" was all he said before he stood back up and sauntered past his mother to the lean-to at the back of the kitchen. About that time, Mary set to humming some unrecognizable tune.
Midway through their pie and coffee, the sounds of horses' hooves filtered through the cracks of the windows and walls.
"Someone's coming!" Seth announced with a shout, suddenly abandoning his pie in favor of jumping from the table and racing to the window.
"Seth, don't yell," scolded Rocky, placing his napkin on the table and pushing his own chair back for a look.
When Rachel slid her chair back in noisy fashion, Rocky glared at her. "Sit," he ordered. "No point in everyone jumping up at once."
The girl slumped back in disappointment while Sarah winced at his harsh tone. What had happened to her husband's former easygoing manner?
"Who is it?" Mary asked.
Rocky hovered over Seth's small frame in the window. "Looks to be Benjamin and Liza Broughton and their two youngins.
Sarah's heart leaped with joy. They had visitors!
The men had excused themselves to the barn while the women worked companionably in the kitchen. Liza talked a mile a minute about the events at the Broughton farm and the awful ice storm, asking Sarah for details about her bad fall while she trimmed beans.
Mary threw together a salad while Sarah sat at the table peeling potatoes. She wasn't about to admit that her head ached. She was just thrilled to have found a useful job, even if it was simple and Mary had insisted she perform it while sitting.
Seth and Rachel were busy entertaining their newfound friends, eight-year-old Lill Broughton and baby Molly, who was coming up on her second birthday. Sarah could hear Rachel asking about school and Lill explaining how the building had burned when her stepmother was the teacher. "Now I just get my teaching lessons at home," she said, "even though I'd rather wait till school starts up in the fall. Liza keeps sayin' she doesn't want me to get behind, but how can I get behind if no one else is goin' to school neither?"
"Either!" Liza corrected from across the room. Sarah giggled when she realized that Liza had also been eavesdropping on the youngsters' chatter.
"It must have been so scary for you," Liza said, turning her attention back to Sarah, "falling in the dark like that, with no one about."
"I hardly remember it," Sarah admitted. "And Rocky came along before I knew it. I had passed out, so I don't know exactly how long I lay there before he found me."
Liza shook her head. "Oh dear. Well, we can all be grateful to God for watching over you."
"Amen to that," Mary said.
"He does look out for us," Sarah said, finishing off the last potato and arranging it in the kettle.
Mary walked over and took the pan from her before she had the chance to announce she had finished. Sarah smiled to herself at the way the woman doted. It made her wonder if she hadn't come to Little Hickman as much for her mother-in-law as for Rocky and the children. The older woman seemed to have latched onto her as if she were her own daughter.
"Well, I'm just glad that Frank drove over to tell us about the mishap, or we might not have heard about it for some time. Of course, we'd have found out eventually. I've been pestering Ben to bring me out for a visit, but he wouldn't allow it. He kept saying the newlyweds needed their space," Liza said, her eyes twinkling.
Sarah shifted nervously, embarrassed by the insinuation and trying to think of a way to change the subject. "Well, I'm glad you chose today to come. Things have gotten dull around here, right, Mary?"
"It was high time we received callers," Mary answered, bringing down the dishes from the cupboard and walking to the table.
"Oh, what beautiful dishes," Liza exclaimed. "Were they your mother's?"
Sarah regarded the dishes she'd received from Stephen, realizing she'd promptly forgotten them in the aftermath of her fall. She wondered now what Rocky would say to eating from them since he'd made such a scene about them earlier.
"Actually, they are a wedding gift from a dear friend. The dishes came from his mother."
Liza looked faintly confused but didn't question; she merely smiled, then picked up one of the plates for her own inspection. "They're lovely. What a pretty pattern."
"They come from the Netherlands," Sarah told her. "I admired them so much as a child that my friend's mother insisted they be given to me as a gift."
"How wonderful," Liza said.
"They sure are nice," Mary added, staring at one of the plates as if to study her own reflection.
"Uncle Rocky don't like 'em," said Rachel. She came up beside her grandmother to make the announcement, followed by Seth, Lill, and baby Molly. "He says ar cabin wasn't made for china and silver."
Both of the women gawked at the little girl then stared at Sarah, awaiting some sort of reply.
"Well, it's not that he doesn't like them," Sarah stated.
"Uncle Rocky says he won't eat off 'em," chimed Seth.
"Whyever not?" asked Mary.
"Well, I suppose he will if he's good and hungry," Sarah said, feeling a smile creep across her face. She st
ill thought it odd that her husband had reacted so irrationally over the gift.
As if on cue, the door opened, and Rocky and Ben walked in. Although Ben wore a friendly smile, Rocky's expression dulled at the first sight of the beautiful blue dishes.
The dinner was delicious and the conversation stimulating. So Rocky wondered why his appetite had dwindled to almost nothing when he'd been forced to spoon his food atop the blue windmill-patterned dishes.
Not wanting to risk making a scene, he'd merely given Sarah a disapproving look, which she'd promptly cast off. She knew how he felt about the wedding gift, he mused. Couldn't she have insisted they use the everyday dishes and saved these others for some special occasion? Of course, if this didn't qualify as a special occasion-entertaining unexpected dinner guests-he didn't know what did.
To make matters worse, the silver flatware, a personal gift from Alden, accompanied the dishes. Further, to give the table a particular flair, Sarah had produced a linen tablecloth and matching napkins, something she'd had tucked away in her trunk, she'd said. It made him wonder what other ceremonial finery she had stowed away in that massive crate of hers.
Ben had said Rocky was a lucky guy-no, blessed was what he'd actually used to describe the new marriage. They'd been standing in the barn looking at some of Rocky's farm supplies. "God had His hand in this one, Rock. Who would have thought that it would turn out so well? I felt so guilty inviting Sarah to Kentucky to be my bride, and then announcing to her after she'd traveled all that way that I meant to marry Liza instead."
Rocky had nodded his head, thinking that it was all quite a coincidence. Yet, to call it a coincidence wouldn't have set well with Ben, so Rocky hadn't mentioned it. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure himself anymore about such things. Was it coincidence or God's providence?
"Hm, I haven't been this full since," Ben sat back and rubbed his belly, "since..."
Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2) Page 14